Summer
by Yaya The Elf
Summary: Right after her rape and before the beginning of her Freshman year, Melinda spends the rest of her summer vacation trying to sort out her feelings and forgetting that dreaded party.


_Disclaimer:_

_I do not own the book "Speak", nor do I own any of the original characters.  
_

_I tried to copy the style of writing that Laurie Halse Anderson used... but I don't think it worked. I apologize in advance if there are any typos  
_

The Night Before

I walk on the streets around midnight. It's cold, dark, and I'm scared I might get put on the milk carton. But that might not be so bad. Usually when kids are kidnapped they're killed. That won't be so bad. I hope they don't hurt me. Just kill me, maybe. Don't hurt me.

I can faintly hear sirens and kids yelling. I shouldn't have called the cops. They wouldn't have believed me, anyway. No one really cares what you think. I mean, my own best friend Rachel didn't even care what I had to say when I tried to explain to her why I called the cops. I think we're not best friends anymore. Not even friends. I've blown it. I shouldn't have drunken those beers, I should have known that some 18-year-old was only going to use me; I should have known not to call the cops. This is my fault. I deserve all of this.

I take off my shoes and walk back home on the lonely sidewalk. Those shoes were killing me. I hate those shoes. And this shirt, and pants, and even underwear and socks. I will burn them later. My house is a few miles away from here, so it takes me about two hours to get back home since I'm walking pretty slow, trying to make sure no one is behind me. Especially not IT. I have to protect myself. Even though I deserve all of this.

The door is locked. Both the front and back. I realize I was supposed to be at Rachel's. Of course they don't expect me. I use the key under the mat.

Me (walking in, shutting the door): Hello? Mom? Dad? Hello?

I walk up the stairs.

Me: Mom? Dad? I need to tell you guys something!  
I open their bedroom door.

Me: You guys, I-

I see an empty bed. Perfectly made, the lights off. I turn them on. Nope. They truly aren't here. The clock's light gazes at me. 3:12 AM. They must be out, too. But where?

I turn off the light and shut their door. I go into the bathroom and turn on the shower because these clothes are making me itch. I scrub and scrub all the dirtiness off of my ashy skin. Until I think I might bleed. Then, I crouch down under the hot water in a fetal position. I stay like that until all the hot water runs out. Then, I dry myself off as best as I can and then I put on some ugly PJ's and go to bed.

**I Am A Jolly Presence **

I have a restless sleep until about 1o AM. It's a long nightmare. It takes up the whole night. It's just me in a black room, hearing a girl sobbing, with me trying to find that girl. I never do.

With my hair a mess, I walk down the stairs into the kitchen. Mom sits there, sipping coffee while reading the newspaper. She wears her pink fuzzy robe. Her hair is a mess, too.

Mom: Hi.

Me: Hello.

I take a seat across from her. She asks me, "How are you?"

Me: Fine, I guess.

Mom (after a pause): Do you know what time it is?

Me: No.

Mom: Don't you have a watch?

Me: No. I don't sleep with a watch on.

Should I tell her? Mom is good with advice sometimes. What should I do? What should I do? Will she comfort me and tell me it's not my fault? Or will she tell me I deserve this and to get lost?

Angel Me: Tell her! She will understand. This is not your fault!

Devil Me: Bitch, please. This is your entire fault! _You're _the one who drank the beers. _You're _the one who accepted that he might have made a move on you. _You're _the one who called the cops. You think your mother will understand?

Angel Me: This isn't your fault. Don't listen! You need to speak up!

Devil Me: Has anyone ever cared what you really had to say? Truly? Has anyone actually listened to you, understood what you had to say and respected it? Ever?

Angel Me: Yes, someone has! Rachel, Ivy, Nicole, your mother and father… so many people! Think about that!

Devil Me: Oh, really. I can totally tell by how your mother is ignoring you and your father is nowhere to be seen. And where were your friends when you needed a ride home yesterday? When you needed to talk?

Angel Me: It's not true. You all were separated. Please, speak up!

Devil Me: Or how about Mr. Andy Evans? He seemed to listen to you when he was on top of you and you told him no. I could totally tell when he covered your mouth.

I can't take it anymore. I scream at them, "GET OUT OF HERE!" They scram.

Mom (breaking me from my thoughts): All right missy, since you seem to not want to talk today, I guess I'll ask you myself. Why aren't you back at Rachel's? You were spending the night over there.

Me:

Mom: Exactly, where were you last night?

Me: …out.

Mom: Sorry I asked.

Me: It's okay…

I look down at my hands. Maybe I should get breakfast. Should I? Maybe Mom poisoned it. To make me talk. I'm not hungry, anyway. I'll probably throw it all up if I eat.

Mom: Rachel's parents called.

Me:

Mom (furious): I can't believe you went to a party!

Me:

Mom: You could have gotten hurt! What were you thinking? Going to a high school party! That isn't safe! You're only 13!

Me:

Mom: Well, what happened? Did you get hurt?

Me: No, I didn't get hurt.

Mom: Are you sure?

Me:

Mom: Answer me!

Me: Yes.

Mom: So you did get hurt?

Me: No! No. I didn't get hurt.

Mom: Really?

Should I tell her?

Me: Yes. I'm fine.

Mom: Well, you're lucky this time. But you will still be punished. You're grounded for the next two weeks.

Me:

Dad comes downstairs, also in a robe. "Two weeks?" he asks. "Are you sure we should punish her that hard? Look at her!" he points to me. I must look scared out of my mind.

"She obviously learned her lesson," he says. "And besides, her birthday is in two Mondays, and there are only a few weeks of summer left! We shouldn't ruin her life."

It's comical how they don't know my life is already ruined.

"Oh, all right," my mom rolls her eyes. "You'll be grounded for a WEEK. Okay?"

Me: _nodding_

They tell me that they're going to a brunch with another family. They tell me I have to stay here because I am grounded. That's good. I don't want to come, anyway. I never say anything.

I spend the rest of the morning and afternoon watching bad cartoons with a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch on my lap. I never knew they could show worse shows than what they actually have on during the time when everyone else watches. This is probably why geeks and nerds are so weird. They never go out and are forced to watch this poop.

Watching them are good distractions, though. Don't think about what happened because nothing happened at all. If I keep telling myself that than it will become true.

After watching about another hour of Sesame Street, I turn off the TV and go up into my room. I sleep for the rest of the day. Mom and Dad come home fighting at around 3 PM. I try not to hear them. It would be better if they divorced. They are interrupting my sleeping time.

At 6 Mom wakes me up. She asks me what's wrong. Is her baby doing all right? I don't say anything. Instead she takes me down and we eat dinner. Meat loaf. I hate meat loaf. But I eat it like nothing is wrong. Nothing is. Nothing happened at that party. And if something did, well, it was most certainly my fault then.

The next day I sleep and watch bad cartoons or kiddy shows. Between the Lions. Sesame Street. Word Girl. And all that other crap they show on Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network and Disney Channel when everyone is outside having fun. I wonder what Andy Beast is doing. Is he having a good time? Is he? Did it matter to him at all that he ruined my life? No, no, no. I deserve what happened to me. Of course he would be carrying on, having a ball. I'm the one who is supposed to be basically dead.

If I were dead, would anyone notice at all?

**Happy Birthday**

The next Monday I am ungrounded. Mom suggests that I go outside and play. That I go over to Rachel's house, or Ivy's or Nicole's. I don't say anything.

Mom asks me what I would like to do for my birthday.

Me: I don't know.

Mom: Well, would you like to have a sleepover? Go to a movie? Maybe you could have a party!

No parties.

Me: I don't know.

Mom: Well, you're old enough to decide this yourself.

Me: Uhm… well I don't really want to have a party this year.

Mom: You sure?

Me: Yea… I mean, uhm, it's not like it's a big deal or anything. It's just 14. Not big deals like, uh, 1o and 13 and 16 and 18.

Mom: Well, all right. You sure?

Me: _nodding_

The next few days Mom pesters me about going outside more. I wish she were more like Dad, who is just a bum that sits around doing nothing. But I calm her by going outside to take a walk. Every little kid is running outside, screaming their heads off. I pass by Rachel, who walks her dog. She glares at me and I say nothing. I look back when I pass her. She gives me the finger.

The next day it rains. I stare out the window, counting each raindrop. When I was little I would always think that the bigger raindrops were school buses, and they would pick up the kids, or the little raindrops. Whenever one little raindrop was left behind, I would always think that the kid was being bad and was kicked out and had to walk to school. But now the raindrops just remind me of tears.

My birthday is tomorrow! WOOHOO! (Not)

Honestly, I'm disappointed. It reminds me that I'll never be the same again. It rains on my birthday, too. A long thunderstorm that lasts the whole day.

My parents call me downstairs to open presents. My hair is a mess and I walk down in my slippers.

My Dad lets me open his first. A watch. I mumble thank you. I open Mom's. An ugly pink shirt from where she works.

Mom: It's okay if you don't like it. If you don't I can always return it.

Me:

I open one from other family members. They sent them through the mail. I guess they couldn't afford to come over and see their own granddaughter or cousin for one day. But, anyway, I open them. Some stupid slippers from my cousins in Ohio. An ugly quilt from my grandma. Itchy sweaters and such from everyone else. I do get a nice teddy bear from my aunt in Maine. It's soft and plush. Once I've opened them all it's time for dinner. We have pizza.

Dad: Where's the cake?

Mom gets scared. "Oh, god," she says. "I forgot the cake."

Thunder cracks.

Mom looks at me with sad eyes. "I'm really sorry," she says.

I mumble it's okay. I don't know why, but it hurts that she forgot to cake me a measly cake. I go back upstairs, grabbing my teddy bear on the way. In my room, I climb under the covers and listen to the rain. It's a sad day when your own mother looks at you very sad because she forgot some stupid cake on your own birthday. I clutch my teddy bear in a tight hug and let the tears slowly spill out of my eyes.

**School Supplies**

The next day Mom decides we should go shopping for school supplies. She tells me to get dressed and meet her outside while she waits in the car.

Once I dress and grab a pop tart for breakfast, I go outside and hop in the car next to her.

Mom: Why aren't you wearing the shirt?

Me: What shirt?

Mom: The one I gave you yesterday. For your birthday.

Me: You said I didn't have to wear it if I didn't have to.

Mom: It costed a lot of money!

Me: But-

Mom: Please, just go inside and put on the shirt.

Me: But you said it was no big deal-

Mom: Go!

I go out of the car and put on the ugly shirt. See? This is why I never bother talking. No one cares what you have to say.

When we get to the store, Mom blabbers on about what type of pencils and notebooks we should get. I just nod and don't say anything. Just buy me the ugly purple and pink notebooks and the boring yellow pencils. Anything to get me out of here quicker so I can go home and take a nap.

After she buys me all the pencils and papers to make the world go 'round, she drives me to another store to buy shoes. I chose random sneakers and try them on and pretend to love them to make Mom happy. Then we go to the store Mom works at and we buy all of the ugliest, cheapest clothes there. Mom says I must try them on before buying them.

In the changing room, I change my shirt and pull on the shirts and pants and skirts. They all fit fine, but I take away the nastiest of them and decide to lie and say they don't fit. While I change into another, ugly red shirt, someone bumps against the door. I jump. Then the door opens and I become scared. Afraid they will hurt me. I push the door closed and say, "Taken!"

"Oh, sorry, dear," an older woman says to me outside. "But you really should have said something when I knocked."

I want to tell her that she should knock harder, and if the door is closed than it's taken anyway. But every time I speak I always stutter so bad, and my throat doesn't seem to work. Maybe I have cancer.

**Fight**

The next night, I wake up to my parents talking.

Mom: I just don't understand what's going on.

Dad: I have no idea. She's just been so upset lately.

I freeze up, knowing that they're talking about me. I listen to every word.

Mom: Do you think it's from that party?

Dad: I don't know. She said she wasn't hurt there.

Mom: I heard someone called the cops. Something must have happened.

Yea, something did. Maybe you can try to figure it out by yourself, though? My vocal chords don't seem to be working.

Dad: I dunno. Maybe it's just a phase.

Mom: Maybe. You think she got into a fight with Rachel?

Dad: I don't know. Or maybe it's boy trouble. Maybe she's been having a problem with a certain boy.

Oh, you have no idea.

Mom: I don't know. Like you said, it could just be a phase.

Dad: I just can't stand to see her like this.

Mom (annoyed): Yea, I can totally tell.

Dad: Excuse me?

Oh, god. Not now. Please.

Mom: Well, I can absolutely tell that you care about her. Definitely by the way your never around and never do anything when you are.

Dad: At least I don't act like a know it all bitch!

Mom: Pardon me?

Dad: I saw you yesterday! Melinda went into the car with you to go shopping for school supplies, then she came back inside and put on that shirt you gave her for her birthday. Why'd you have to do that? You said that if she didn't like it, she didn't have to wear it! That you could return it!

Mom: Well, I paid lots of money on that gift.

Dad: She obviously hated that gift!

Mom: Well-

Dad: Oh, don't you insult me for being a bad parent. _You're _the one who forgot to buy the cake!

Mom: She didn't care.

Dad: She walked away, looking like she was about to cry! They may seem like little things to you, but these things count when you're a kid!

They start screaming at each other after that.

A large sob wells up in my chest. I squeeze my teddy bear and try not to cry too loudly.

**Last Day Of Summer**

On the last day of summer, our block hosts a big block party to celebrate the coming on the new year. It seems kind of stupid, to celebrate school, but the parties are always fun. Or at least they were.

Mom gets very excited about the party. She braids my hair and makes me put on my favorite tee shirt and pants. I want to feel excited, but instead I feel empty. Her and Dad bring over a salad and some cake. So, she can remember to bring cake to a stupid block party but not my birthday. It totally works that way.

We walk to the center of the block, where it will be hosted. Since the majority of the kids on this street are around six, they mostly have little kid activities. A bouncy house, arts and crafts and a place to decorate bikes. I settle myself somewhat near the adults, who talk and laugh while drinking cold beers and eat salads. I grab some fruit and pick at it, trying to look busy.

A woman named Mrs. Juliee comes up near me. She's a sweet old lady with a cute white bob.

Mrs. Juliee: Hello, deary, how are you?

Me:

Mrs. Juliee: Do you want to go over to the arts and crafts section? You've always had sort of a knack of drawing.

Me:

Mom (walking up behind my chair): Melinda, be polite! Say something!  
Mrs. Juliee: Oh, no, it's okay. I'm sort of scary! (Mom and Mrs. Juliee laugh)

The two of them go over towards the other adults. One of the moms asks, "How's your daughter?"

"Not good," my mom says. "She hasn't been talking lately."

"I noticed," Mrs. Juliee says. "She always seems to talk her head off, and today she seems strangely quiet. Is she sick?"

"I have no idea," my mom says. "We think it may be just a phase."

"Teenagers can be like that sometimes," agrees a pregnant blond mom. "I should know."

"Well, she's going to need to toughen it out," Mom says. "I don't have time for this."

They think I can't hear them. But I do. And the thought of my own mother speaking poorly about me behind my back is too much. I get up, throw my plate of fruit away and start walking back towards my house, trying to fight off tears. I bump into someone. Someone hard and warm and soft. I look up, and see one of the teenagers on my street. His name is Mike, and he's the same age as Andy Beast.

Mike: Hey, Melinda! How are you?

Me:

I'm frightened by him, even though I never have. We used to be very good friends, actually. But I can't seem to trust this guy anymore.

Mike: My brother and me are going back to my house and watch TV. You wanna come?

Mike's brother is 16. His name is George. I wonder what will happen if I come over. Will they strip me down? Write disgusting things all over my body? Tie me to a bed and take turns?

George (walking up): Hey, Mike. Hey, Linny! How are you?

Me:

George: You okay? What's the matter?

Mike: Yea, seriously, are you all right?

Me:

Mike: Hello?

I try saying something, but I start getting myself all worked up and start stuttering so bad I can't even understand myself. They give me a concerned look, but I just turn around and run into my house.

SLAM! The door shut. RUN! Up the stairs. PLOP! Into my bed. I grab my pillow, shove it onto my face and scream all the animal noises IT made and all the screams I tried to make. Then I start crying so hard it makes my stomach hurt. Crying like the little baby I am. I want to cry out all of the pain, to hurt myself, to kill myself. But I just can't seem to do it. Because I'm the biggest baby my town has ever known.

Outside, I hear kids playing. I look out my window and see them all riding their bikes in the street, looking so happy. The opposite of me. I wish I were still like that. I feel so left out and alone.

As I keep looking out the window, I want to say something. To anyone. Even my teddy bear. But I just can't seem to.

Me:

Me:

Me:

I start to cry.


End file.
